


hard day's night

by attheborder



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Humor, Ill-Advised Coworker Hookups, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attheborder/pseuds/attheborder
Summary: As he entered the men’s toilet, Dundy was just coming out of a stall, holding his phone and looking quite proud.“... Have you just done a dick pic in there?”“I can send it to you too, if you like.”“No thanks,” said Edward. “I remember.”
Relationships: Henry T. D. Le Vesconte/Edward Little
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	hard day's night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfcharacter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfcharacter/gifts).



In hindsight it all made sense. The increasingly phallic choice of foodstuffs; the exhibitionist displays of consumption of said foodstuffs in the office cafeteria; the solid claps on the shoulder that slowly but imperceptibly shaded into rubbing circles into his back, lightly pinching his non-existent biceps, and once, even, a tap on the bum. 

There was the time Edward walked into the copy room only to find Dundy leaning over the printer, apparently engaged in some kind of intense sensual wrestling with the paper-tray. The angle of his pose had pushed his arse out and up, so that it strained against his perfectly tailored suit trousers, and shone underneath the sickly fluorescent ceiling lights. 

Lingering awkwardly on the threshold, Edward swallowed, and then cleared his throat. 

“Ah, Edward. You’ve found me in a bit of a pinch,” Dundy drawled. “Mind giving me a hand?” 

Edward set down his overstuffed to-scan folder on a nearby table and tentatively approached his colleague. Through a series of semaphore-esque nods of his head and flicks of his perfectly coiffed hair Dundy indicated that Edward was to reach inside the tray he was lifting up with both hands. Edward did so, and after a moment of groping, pulled out a fancy fountain pen he recognized as belonging to Dundy. 

“How did that get in there?” he said, but instead of answering to any degree of satisfaction, Dundy merely plucked the pen out of Edward’s hand, said “You’re a darling,” and swanned out. 

Edward proceeded to scan nearly half of his files before realizing he’d forgotten to stick his USB in, and had to do them all over again. 

He could draw a direct line, looking back, between that strange event and his current state. He hoped dearly his face wasn’t as red as it felt when he walked into the office nearly twenty minutes late on Wednesday morning— _walk_ possibly being a misnomer, as he was well aware that his current method of perambulation could be more likely termed a _shuffle,_ or perhaps _teeter._

Not fifteen minutes after easing himself gingerly into his seat, the hair on the back of Edward’s neck pricked up; he slowly spun around in his chair and met the pale gaze of the office’s local apparition. 

“You wore those clothes yesterday.” 

“Yes, Tom.” 

“You didn’t go home last night.” 

“No, Tom.” 

Tom’s eyes flicked up and to the right. He was doing his Sherlock Holmes routine again. Edward could practically feel the oiled, machined gears in his odd little head going click-click-click as they processed every factor, visible and invisible, of Edward’s apparent condition. 

“Le Vesconte,” he said, after a moment, perfectly confident. 

“Christ, how do you do that?” Edward leaned back in his chair, and then winced, reconsidered, and instead collapsed forward on the desk. 

“Easy,” said Tom. “It’s a Wednesday. On Tuesday nights Tozer and the rest of IT are doing trivia night, he wouldn’t miss it and you would never go, so it’s not Tozer. It wasn’t me, unless there’s something I’m not remembering, and you're not the sort to use mind-altering drugs on a sexual partner. All other candidates can be eliminated on the basis of sexual orientation, relationship status, or lack of opportunity…” He paused; Edward couldn't see, but he was probably examining his perfectly manicured nails. “Also, he posted a selfie on his Instagram story this morning after his run, and I saw your jacket lying on the floor in the background.”

Edward let out a low moan into his jumper sleeve. “Could you not have started with that?” 

“Where would the fun in that be? Anyway, are you sure you don’t just want to go home? You look a bit… ragged.” 

Edward raised his head from the nest of his arms so that he could peer blearily up at Tom. The judgement radiating off of him was a bit much. Just because Tom could pursue an active sex life while still managing to come off pristine as a mannequin didn’t mean everyone else could. 

“No. Got too much to do,” Edward said. 

“Right,” said Tom. “Well, you’re not alone. Crozier has me reformatting his entire deck for this afternoon’s presentation. I’m thinking Cardo for the body font, Ultra for the headers. Nice slate gray and blue color scheme.” He ducked out of the cubicle, and then poked his head back in. “Maybe avoid John if you can today, yeah? He’d probably be able to tell.” 

Edward nodded sadly in agreement. Tom was right. John could not find out. John could absolutely not find out, because ninety percent of the office’s productivity rested solely on the database proficiency that he bore so heroically on his wiry shoulders. Of course, given the size of the office, and the known rate of dissemination of gossip amongst its personnel, it was inevitable that the news reach him at some point, but at the very least they could put it off until the next financial quarter. 

So for everyone’s sake, he stayed where he was, and got to work. Or at least tried to. 

When he finally accepted that he could in no way concentrate, he got up and went for a piss. As he entered the men’s toilet, Dundy was just coming out of a stall, holding his phone and looking quite proud. 

“... Have you just done a dick pic in there?” 

“I can send it to you too, if you like.”

“No thanks,” said Edward. “I remember.” 

He very much did remember Dundy’s cock, springing forth from the man’s sleek maroon briefs, tugged down over muscular waxed thighs. The sight had sent a flood of saliva into his mouth and a rush of blood to his own prick that threatened to unbalance him and send him tipping right into Dundy’s arms. Which is where he ended up eventually, of course. 

“Unforgettable, that’s me,” said Dundy, and gave him a grin and a tip of an invisible cap, striding past him and back out into the office. 

Edward splashed cold water on his face, stared into the mirror, and began to reconsider Tom’s idea of just begging off and going home. The thought of continuing to perform his daily routine of mundane administrative tasks when the man who’d practically split him in two last night was mere yards away, probably sat in his chair in a gravity-defying way it absolutely was not designed to be sat in, seemed more untenable by the second. 

But he was going to have to. Or else Crozier would be disappointed, and then try very hard not to be, which was always far worse than if he’d just been straightforward. 

Back at his cubicle, Edward shifted around restlessly. If he sat very _very_ still, then he could just about make the physical effects disappear…. 

He had just about managed to make headway on his weekly report when his phone dinged with a text. It was Dundy, of course. 

_Hey babe_

_Stuck on a conf call_

_Can you grab me a croissant from the break room? Saw on the slack Blanky just dropped them off x_

Edward’s thumb hovered over the _No._ button that his autofill was helpfully offering up. But then he thought about the way Dundy’s face would light up upon receipt of said pastry, and the idiotically sexy wink he might receive as thanks, and God, did he really need that precise sort of pick-me-up at this ruthless afternoon hour. 

So up he went, tottering over to the break room. He realized just a second too late that he’d picked the route that led him right past—

“Ah, Edward!” 

Fuck. 

“Hi, Francis, is there anything—” 

“Yes, perfect timing, actually, I need you to sit down with Graham and go through the operational updates before he heads out to the site… if you’ll just take these over to him, and these as well…” 

By the time Edward finally, finally made to make it to his destination, after what seemed like years of Graham’s exhaustingly energetic double-checking and mistake-spotting, there was only one sad croissant left on the tray. It was a malformed, runty looking thing, and by this point quite stale.

Dundy didn’t seem to mind, though. He muted himself on the call, snatched the croissant right out of Edward’s hand, and proceeded to shove it into his mouth. 

“You are a fucking lifesaver,” he said, through a mouthful of gluten. He rolled over on his chair, so that his head was leaning on Edward’s crotch. 

Edward could feel the strong muscles of his jaw working as he chewed, right against his cock. It was…. certainly something. He had just begun to relax into it, imagining that tongue and that throat at work on a different project, when a familiar reedy voice came from behind him: “Henry, do you have the—oh, dear God.” 

“John, no, it’s not what it looks like—” Edward said, springing away from Dundy, but John was already turning tail and fleeing the scene. 

“Might be!” Dundy shouted after him. Edward shot him a glare. “What?” Dundy said, and then— yes—there was the wink. 

**Author's Note:**

> working title for this was "side to side ariana grande mp3" but i picked a beatles theme for rarepair week titles and i'm sticking to it!!!!!!!
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://areyougonnabe.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/areyougonnabe) :)


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